Roses in the Snow
by Rian
Summary: It was probably a good thing that Remus couldn’t remember much of James and Lily’s funeral..." Remus tries to cope with the aftermath of James and Lily's deaths.


Title: Roses in the Snow  
Author/Artist: Rian  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing(s)/character(s): Remus, with a side order of Remus/Sirius Summary: Remus tries to cope with the aftermath of James and Lily's deaths.  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They are the property of JK Rowling and her associated people.  
Warnings: Not happy. Not happy at all.  
Notes: Thanks to the fabulous Starkiller for the extremely speedy beta, and to Suzene for the extremely helpful suggestions.

It was probably a good thing that Remus couldn't remember much of James and Lily's funeral. General things he remembered, impressions; the feel of his father's arm around his back, holding him upright whenever they had to stand up; the droning voice of the priest; everyone whispering about him when his back was turned, and his parents trying to pretend it wasn't happening. The way he couldn't look at Dumbledore, or even look his mother in the face, the way he wanted to yell at both of them, _Don't look at me like that, just don't. Don't you know it makes it a thousand times worse?_ But of course he didn't.

His father had pressed a key into his hand at the end of it, and he'd looked at it dumbly until his dad had hugged him and whispered, "It's the key to the country house, lad. Use it. Go there and rest for a while, and we'll come up for the moon." He'd nodded, kissed his mum on the cheek without looking at her face, and left them.

That was three days ago, and he had no idea what he'd done since then. He'd gathered that it had a fair amount to do with whiskey, both fire and non, by the smell of him, and if the soreness of his face and the fact of a split lip was any indication, it also had involved a bar fight at one point. His bruised and bloody knuckles told him that he'd given as good as he'd gotten, so he at least had that to be glad about. He was still in the suit he'd worn to the funeral, and he guessed that he probably hadn't had much in the way of food these last couple of days, because now he stood with his hands shaking so much he couldn't even get the key in the door. Although, if he was honest with himself, he knew that his shaking hands didn't have much to do with how much he'd eaten.

He hadn't been here since things had started to go downhill. (Not since darkness had started take over everything, and questions like 'what are you doing?' and 'where are you going?' and 'when will you be back?' became questions that weren't asked because both of them knew they wouldn't get answered properly. Not since they'd stopped looking into each other's eyes when they made love, and instead started just fucking, eyes closed and faces turned away, that's if they bothered being face to face at all). He didn't even really know why he was here now, except his dad had given him the key and it was better than going home, where all around him was Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. At least here it was only Sirius' ghost, and there wasn't any chance of finding Sirius' dirty clothes in the washing basket or his smell still on the sheets.

Just before he resorted to kicking the door of the cottage in in frustration he got it open, but once he was inside he had no idea what to do. After standing in the middle of the living room like an idiot for what seemed like forever, he finally lay down on the settee fully clothed and tried to sleep. At least if he slept he could forget.

Which was just about as big a lie as he'd ever told himself, and he'd told himself some whoppers.

_Summer of 1977, the last summer before their last year at Hogwarts, and the future stretched before them, unknown and frightening, but for the first time, Remus had hope, and he was happy. They'd come to the country house, just him and Sirius, to spend some time alone, which for them at this stage meant spending most of the time in bed. Or in the shower. Or in front of the fireplace in the living room. Or on the kitchen table, or out in the back yard. But they did stop sometimes, and one of those times was tonight. Tonight was for star gazing, out on top of the hill at the back of the house, lying on their backs and staring at the sky. It had been hot during the day, but once it had gotten dark a breeze had sprung up, and Remus felt it drying the sweat on his neck as he stared at the sky. The brightest star in it was Sirius's star, and Remus couldn't stop looking at it, but the brightness of it paled in comparison to the brightness of the boy beside him. _

"_Make a wish, Moony. Go on."_

_Remus smiled. "What should I wish for, then?"_

"_Well, if I tell you what to wish for then it won't come true, you berk. Think of something yourself."_

"_Okay," Remus said, but he didn't wish for anything, because he didn't need to. He had everything he wanted. "Are you going to wish for something?"_

"_No." Sirius laughed and rolled on top of him, and now Remus could only see the one star, and his arms went up to wrap around it and hold it close. "I already have everything that I want, I don't need to." Remus laughed and Sirius grinned and leaned down, and after their lips met there was no more talk of wishing for anything._

Remus was halfway up the hill before he woke up, and when he realised where he was he wanted to retch, scream, cry, all at once. But he didn't, he just turned around and went back down, skirting around the back yard and going in the front door instead. And not once did he look up at the sky.

* * *

He'd always hated waiting for the moon to rise, and this time was a million times worse as he sat around the kitchen table with his parents, silent and clutching his mug of tea so tight his knuckles were white as they awkwardly tried to make conversation. 

"The white lilies were a thoughtful touch I thought," his mother was saying, as his father 'mmm'd' his agreement, both of them apparently totally unaware that Remus considered the topic of James and Lily's funeral as something never to be spoken of again after the actual day of it, "And the way they arranged them among the roses, the white and the red together really was lovely…"

Remus stood abruptly, knocking his chair over with a resounding crash. "I better go down to the cellar. Make sure to come and lock the door after me, all right?" He didn't even wait for a response before he walked out, through the laundry and out the back, pausing only to snatch one of his father's dirty shirts out of the washing basket.

_The first full moon of 1979 had been a pretty easy one, with Padfoot and Prongs there to keep him company, Wormtail missing it due to having gone on holidays with his family. They were at the country house again, he and Sirius having spent Christmas with Remus' parents there. In winter the place was totally different, and Remus loved it snow-covered, so white and pristine and different to the slush and rain and grey gloom of London. When his mum and dad had had to leave so they could go back to work, Remus, between jobs yet again, and Sirius, with enough money that he was taking his time deciding what he wanted to do with his life, had stayed, happy memories of the last summer they'd stayed there still fresh in their minds. James had left them on the morning after the full with a promise to tear Lily away from wedding preparations long enough to spend a few days with them after the weekend, and Remus had looked forward to it already as Sirius hugged James goodbye and he went to bed._

_Some indefinable time later, he was awakened, very reluctantly, by something tickling his nose. He batted it away and rubbed his nose, screwing up his eyes and refusing to open them. He had a few seconds of peace before it happened again, and this time he realised that whatever it was smelled like roses. Which was puzzling, to say the least._

"_Sirius, bugger off," he said sternly, opening his eyes with a glare already firmly in place to see Sirius looming over him and smiling. And clearly ignoring him, because he neither buggered off, or gave any indication whatsoever that he'd even heard what Remus had said._

"_Get up. Get up, get up, get up." Each 'get up' was punctuated by a swat to his nose with a rose, of all things. Which explained the smell, but not why the hell Sirius would have one, given that Remus didn't think there were any in the garden anyway, never mind that it was the middle of winter. "I've got something to show you."_

_Grumbling, but curious despite himself, Remus got up and dressed slowly, despite a bouncing Sirius urging him to hurry from the doorway. Sirius grabbed his hand and led him toward the back door. Remus noted vaguely in his almost still asleep state that Sirius' hand felt a bit clammy, a bit sweaty, but he let it go. It was too much to think about on top of full moon tiredness and Sirius' already bizarre behaviour. He let himself be pulled to the back door, but once he got outside he stopped dead, utterly gobsmacked. Sirius let go of his hand and turned to face him, but a little off to his side. He was smiling, but in the oddest combination of expressions Remus thought he'd ever seen, he also looked like he was going to be sick._

"_Well?" he asked breathlessly._

"_Sirius, I – I, um…" Remus clearly wasn't up for conversation, he could only stare, out past Sirius and at the backyard, which had been transformed from the backyard he knew. It was absolutely festooned with fairy lights, both real ones and Muggle ones, all through the hedges, which formed the perimeter of the yard. There was a gazebo at the bottom of the yard which had climbing roses all tangled in its archways and its roof, of all different colours ( red, yellow, white, but also some that Remus was sure weren't colours that roses normally came in; he made a mental note to look that up when he had the chance). The gazebo had fairly lights on it too, just a few, and the snow leading up to the gazebo was scattered with rose petals, only red ones this time, with a path cleared up to the steps of the gazebo. The lights and the red of the petals against the darkness of the sky (Remus noted dumbly that Sirius must have let him sleep for a while, it had to be late afternoon or early evening if it was dark) made the snow fairly gleam, and Remus was dumbstruck._

"_Sirius, I – what is…?" Remus stammered, and then suddenly Sirius had grabbed his hand again and was leading him towards the gazebo. When they got there Sirius led him up the steps then turned to face him again, letting his hand drop. He was breathing heavily, as if he'd been running, and his cheeks were pink. Remus had no idea what the hell was going on._

"_So, do you like it?"_

_For some reason Remus wasn't expecting that question, so it took a little while for him to reply. "Well, I – yes, yes, of course I like it, it's beautiful, but I – why? I don't…"_

_Sirius smiled, but he looked like he was going to be sick again. "Well, you know," he said, and he sounded even more breathless than before. "James and Lily'll be married soon, and I was talking to your dad over Christmas, and he was telling me how he'd proposed to your Mum, just like this he said, and I just thought…" Sirius laughed nervously, his cheeks going even redder as he looked down at his hands and didn't go on._

"_Yes," Remus prompted calmly, but then the penny dropped and his heart started beating a mile a minute. "Sirius, is this…"_

_Sirius interrupted him abruptly, the words all coming out in a rush. "I just thought that with James and Lily getting married and all, and you and I together, well, you know, we've been together longer than them, and I thought…" He took a deep breath, apparently to try and calm himself down. It didn't work very well, but that was okay, because Remus wasn't feeling particularly calm himself. "I just thought that we should…I know we can't get married or anything, not officially, but we could swear to each other or something…promise things." Sirius laughed again and reached out for Remus' hand, and this time both their hands were sweaty, despite the cold. "Promise till death do us part and all that." Sirius looked up from their joined hands and into Remus' face, and it was one of the very few times that Remus had seen him look unsure. "What do you say to that?" he asked quietly, almost so quietly Remus had to strain to hear him._

_Remus took a deep breath himself, then smiled, even though his heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to have a heart attack, and his mouth was so dry he could barely speak. "I say…I say yes." He smiled. "Yes. We can do that. Till death do us part. That sounds good."_

_Sirius beamed at him, and the next thing he knew he was being crushed against Sirius' chest as the other boy hugged him, laughing, swinging him around and off his feet until he was laughing too, and then they were kissing, and the rest of the night was spent in a happy blur of talking and kissing and more kissing and snuggling and more talking. They had a lot to talk about, because their future together was bright and forever seemed a very long time._

When Remus woke up, strapped down to the bed so that he wouldn't move and open his wounds and bleed to death, his mother crying and trying to explain through her tears that the wolf had gone crazy and had torn him to shreds, almost killed him, and if they hadn't been there to fetch him out of the cellar he might have died this time. She couldn't understand it, she said, it wasn't like there had been any humans around, none except them, and they'd stayed in the house, stayed where the wolf couldn't smell them. Remus only half heard her, staring up at the ceiling so that he could avoid his father's eyes when he came into the room carrying the clothes Remus had stripped off down in the cellar before the moon rose, the ragged remains of his own dirty shirt sandwiched between them.


End file.
